Brian Jacques - Redwall #15 - The Taggerung

To good health and long seasons, and to your victory!"

Everybeast stood on tip-paw, raising the drinking vessels and shouting out to the winning pair to grant them permission to sup the fizz. Trays of special nut shortbreads were brought out and served. Fwirl and Gundil, between gulps of the drink, dispensed permissions as speedily as they could. Music and dancing broke out amid the scene of happy revelry.

Fwirl placed her garland on Filorn's head, and threw a paw about Mhera, her eyes shining. "I never realized what a good runner your mama is, for her seasons, that is. You ran a great race, marm!"

Filorn raised her beaker. "But not as swift as you, pretty one!"

Broggle joined them, clapping a paw to his mouth. "Whoo! This fizz is lively stuff. Best old Drogg's ever made, I'd say. Well, Fwirl, if you've decided to stay at Redwall, we'll never win the wall race again, none of us!"

Fwirl draped her cloak about his shoulders. "Well, I'll be the starter next time, I won't volunteer as a runner." She held up a paw and did a very good imitation of Boorab. "Wot wot, I say, you chaps, get in line there, no shovin' or jolly old shortcuts, you rotters, wot wot!"

Mhera joined in the laughter, but stopped when she caught sight of Trey, the youngest mouse in the Abbey, weeping over by the main door. Pushing her way through the revelers, she reached his side. "Dearie me, a big fellow like you crying? What's the matter, Trey?"

"Us went onna race again, me'n'Durby'n'Feegle," the mousebabe explained between sobs. "We run like big 'uns onna wall. Then Durby'n'Feegle run like Miz Furl onna bakklemints, but they felled off over d'wall!"

Torches flared in the midsummer night and cries rang out over the darkened Abbey grounds as Redwallers dashed to the walls. Throwing little Trey up on his shoulders, Boorab sped along the wall tops with Broggle, Filorn, Mhera and Fwirl in attendance, pumping Trey for information as he went.

"Where were they when they fell, old fellah? Here, over there, by the threshold, north wall, where?"

Mhera followed the direction of the mousebabe's pointing paw. "He's pointing to the center of the east wall."

They arrived panting at the location. Fwirl leaped up onto the battlements. "Was it here, Trey?"

The Dibbun nodded dumbly. Broggle looked pale in the torchlight. "If they'd fallen this way they would've landed here on the parapet. Did they fall over into the woodlands, little 'un?"

Again Trey merely nodded. Mhera's voice was laden with concern. "Tell us, Trey, when did this happen? Just now?"

This time the mousebabe shook his head. Mhera questioned further. "How long ago was it? Why didn't you run and tell us straightaway?"

Trey played with the bells on Boorab's ears as he confessed wanly, "It 'appen long ago when all went inna h'Abbey. Durby say notta tell anybeast we playin' onna wall. They felled off an' I come'd inna Hall. Trey frykkinned to tell, get sended uppa bed!"

Boorab shouted down to old Hoarg. "Get the main gate open, old chap. Search party needed outside!"

Fwirl did not need an open gate. She vanished over the wall with eye-blurring speed. Mhera issued instructions as she raced for the east wallsteps. "We'll use the east wicker gate, it'll be quicker. Mama, take Trey inside Broggle, Mr. Boorab, follow me, we'll need your torches for light!"

The lock on the east wicker gate was stiff, but a solid kick from the hare's long back paws shot it open. The little gate creaked as they dashed out into the woodlands.

Fwirl was already out alongside the trees growing closest to the wall, her pretty face grim as the light fell on it. She spoke the words they were dreading to hear. "There's no sign of them!"

Blazing torches and lantern lights flickered all around the outside perimeter of Redwall Abbey's outer walls. Search parties chased up and down, looking for the lost Dibbuns, hoping that they would naturally have followed the wall around to the main gate. Mhera was rounding a huge sycamore when a big paw fell on her shoulder. She sighed with relief at the sound of Cregga's voice.

"Mhera, is that you? Any sign of them yet?"

"I'm afraid not, Cregga. It's as if the little rogues vanished into thin air."

Worriedly the Badgermum sniffed the night air. "I don't like this, there's too many out here. Those without torches or lanterns could get lost. Mossflower Wood is a very deceptive place, particularly at night. Everybeast is out here, even the elders, and that's not good. One spark from a torch, or a fallen lantern, could cause a forest fire!"

It was a terrible thought, but true. Mhera clenched her paws. "Right, get them to search inside the walls. Durby and Feegle may have wandered back in through the open gate. I'll take Broggle, Fwirl and Boorab, and we'll continue to look out here. Leave the east wicker gate ajar, so we can report in if they're found. Keep Sister Alkanet close, tell her to have medicines ready, and splints too. They might have broken limbs from the fall and could be lying out here unconscious somewhere. Will you do that, my friend?"

Cregga patted the ottermaid's cheek. "Good thinking, Mhera. I'll have Drogg leave some fresh torches unlit, by the wicker gate. Anything else you need?"

Mhera signaled Boorab over to her side. "Only lots of luck and some early dawn light if we don't find those two Dibbuns soon!"

Chapter 21

Tagg stood covered in dust and soil, his chest heaving and his paws weary from digging. Nimbalo squinted at the setting sun as the last injured pigmy shrews were carried back into the mountain cave, then gazed sadly around at the deep layers of shale, scree and rocky debris.

"Well, mate, we saved all those we could. No tellin' 'ow many pore wretches lie buried under this lot. C'mon, there ain't no more we can do 'ere, Tagg. Let's go an' get cleaned up."

The big otter hung his head in despair. "None of this would've happened if I hadn't come here!"

The harvest mouse cast an eye to their prisoner. "Yer wrong, mate, you mean none o' this would've 'appened if'n that scum an' 'is vermin 'adn't come 'ere. You can't blame yoreself. Wrong 'uns is wrong 'uns wherever they goes. Huh, they would've only brought sufferin' on some other pore beasts."

Tagg nodded wearily. "Maybe there's some truth in that. Come on, you, get moving!" He took out his blade and severed the rope that anchored Ribrow's footpaws to a long, heavy piece of shale.

The stoat stumbled upright, rigid with fear. "Yore goin' to kill me, I know you are!"

Tagg kicked him on his way to the water-covered cavern entrance. "Not just yet, scumface. There's some questions I need answers to."

Ribrow had nothing to lose. "An' wot if I don't answer yer questions, eh?" he snarled back at his captor.

Nimbalo smiled amiably at him. "Then we'll turn yer over t'the kin of those you murdered."

The remark took all the boldness out of Ribrow. He collapsed in a sobbing heap, pleading pitifully, "No, please, don't let those beasts gerrat me!"

Tagg grabbed him savagely, pulling him up so fiercely that his footpaws left the ground. He held the stoat at eye level, narrowing his eyes to a deep stare of icy hatred.

"If you don't tell me what I want to know, you'll wish I had turned you over to the Cavemob tribe by the time I'm done with you. So you'd best loosen up that tongue of yours!"

When they reached the cave, Nimbalo took a refreshing shower beneath the cascade of cold mountain water that curtained the entrance. Taking Tagg's blade, he guarded the prisoner whilst the otter did likewise, energetically washing away the day's dirt and grit. It was as they dragged Ribrow to the cascading screen that they made a fortunate discovery. He was afraid of water. The stoat dug his heels in and yowled, "No! No! I ain't goin' inter that! Lemme go!"